I laughed and waved as I walked away. She had to know what I was thinking and what I wanted, and yet she didn’t pull away. I saw it in her eyes, whenever I came close, that same need reflected back.
Sooner or later, I knew I’d break down. I only had to make sure that when I finally took what I wanted, it didn’t ruin everything.
13
Lori
I beat myself up for that near-fatal mistake for the next couple weeks.
Despite his initial reaction, Piers was surprisingly good about it. He walked me through that surgery the next day and showed me each step in painfully exacting detail. We practiced it, over and over again, until I felt like I could do it in my sleep.
Then we did another surgery, and another, and another. Soon, he was running me through more complex procedures, showing me step by step, every single slice and stitch, every suture and clamp. We went from barely spending any time together, to spending a little time together, to spending every single spare second in whatever room was available studying video and talking technique. I was the more intense training I’d ever had, even more intense than my med school days, and he seemed to thrive on it.
It was like someone threw a switch. He went from constantly grouchy to strangely excited and encouraging. Each little mistake was met by ten ways for me to improve, but never in some demeaning or belittling way. He was kind and firm, but not mean.
I expected him to be cutting. I figured a guy like him would treat me like garbage until I either figured it out on my own, or gave up and left him alone.
That didn’t happen though. It was like he made some decision inside of himself, and threw himself into our relationship with a strange vigor.
I walked home one evening after a particularly long and frankly very boring description of a simple stent placement procedure, going over the motions in my head, like Tetris pieces falling into position. I swerved around a corner, dodged a group of young teens in school uniforms, and came face to face with Ted the private investigator.
He gave me a big smile. “Evening, Dr. Court.”
I walked right past him. “Not interested.”
But unfortunately, he didn’t let me scape, and fell into step. I hadn’t seen him in a few days, and was starting to hope that he’d lost interest, or had moved on to a new case.
“My employer wants to meet with you.”
That made me slow down. “Robert Tippett wants to see me?”
“Right now, if you have the time. He’s in a cafe nearby.”
“What does he want?” I stopped and faced him, arms crossed over my chest, trying to keep my heart from racing out of my body.
“I’m not sure,” Ted said. “He told me he wants to ask you about Dr. Hood, but I don’t believe him.”
I chewed on my lip. “It’s something else then.”
“Something he doesn’t want me to know.” Ted gave me an oddly worried look. “You don’t have to meet with him, of course. If you want—”
“I’ll do it.”
He looked taken aback. “Are you sure?”
I nodded once. “I’m sure. Where is he?”
Ted hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder. “Look, I don’t do this, but I feel like I should warn you. Robert Tippett is a hard man. He’s not going to be kind.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then you should be prepared, if you’re going to meet with him.”
“What do you want from me exactly?” I asked. “One second, you’re pestering me for information for your client. The next, you’re warning me about him.”
He seemed somewhat shaken. “I’m not sure, honestly. Maybe you remind me of my daughter.”
“Well, I’m not your daughter, and I don’t want your help.” I let that sink in. “I’m ready when you are.”
He grunted once, giving me a strange, almost admiring look, before he turned and began to walk back toward the hospital. We turned down Eighteenth Street, kept going south for a few more blocks, before he stopped outside of a small coffee place with a sleek wooden door and stainless-steel trim.
It was dim inside and crowded. I spotted Robert Tippett immediately. He was a man in his fifties, ruddy cheeks, short cropped hair, immaculate dark business suit, briefcase on the floor beside him. The sound of the espresso machine made me glance toward the counter, and the sound of typing filled the room with a solid wall of ambient noise.
Ted took me to Robert Tippett’s table and gestured. “Mr. Tippett, this is Dr. Court.”
“Pleasure,” he said, standing a bit to shake my hand. “Call me Robert though. Would you sit, please?”
“Of course,” I said, taking the chair opposite. “I’m Lori, by the way.” I glanced over, but Ted was already gone.
Robert gave me a tight smile. “Ted’s good at what he does, but he doesn’t like conflict, which is a very weird thing for a private eye.”
“I didn’t get that impression.”
“No, you wouldn’t at first.” He put his hands flat on the table in front of me. “Would you like something to drink? On the house, of course. My family owns this place.”
I frowned slightly. “I didn’t know you were in the coffee business.”
“Coffee, restaurants, all sorts of ventures.” He gestured vaguely in the air. “The Tippett family has been very busy for the last couple hundred years.” He laughed, like that was a funny joke, and I only smiled politely.
“What can I do for you, Robert?” I asked him, not wanting to extend this visit any longer than necessary.
He gave me an appraising look. “I suppose you want to skip all the small talk.”
“It’s been a long day,” I said. “Twelve hours on my feet. I’m really looking forward to my bed.”
His smile slowly faded. “I assume you know about the problem I have with Dr. Hood.”
“Yes, I’ve been told.”
“And I’m sure you only heard his side of the story.”
I shrugged a little, running my fingers down the fake wood grain
